"That sounds way better than you stalking her into a date." He wasn't wrong, he'd take that. "But she just accepted a date with no hesitation? You're not bribing her, are you?"
He scoffed and shook his head. The phone making its way back to its previous location. "No, I'm not bribing her, Charles. For fuck's sake." That would've been his last resort, most likely. Though he wouldn't admit it. "We made this stupid bet about—never mind, I won't get into details with that because I decided to be a better person and stop joking about you and Sloane." Now Charles seemed a bit unsure of this sudden act of good faith from him. He continued his narrative unbothered by the distrust. "There was a bet, that's all."
"And you won?"
"I lost actually," His lips formed a smile. "But she wanted a date...apparently to see what the whole hype is about. I don't know." Half shrugging, Pierre fiddled with the little pack of gum between his fingers.
Before Charles got the opportunity to dig more, someone passed by and they moved to the side, opening space because they were blocking the corridor. Charles apologised in Italian, and he did it with a simple nod. When the person turned to the other corridor, they resumed their little chat.
Charles breathed out. "Well, you should be proud. You got the chance you wanted. Don't screw it." He advised at the same time bantering. Considering he'd already done that, he was better prepared this time. "Aurora will be thrilled with this. And she's going to think you're blackmailing Salma."
"I'll promise to her that I won't ruin one of Sloane's friendships." One last joke about it wouldn't hurt...his last bit of enjoyment before redemption. Blah blah blah. "You already tried that anyway." He smirked.
The Ferrari driver almost threw one of the tomatoes at him, Pierre laughed and pretended to cover the attack with both hands. He'd stop bantering about it now though, he wanted to get to his date in one piece.
—
Catherina's bob bounced up and down, her breath hitching as she tried to keep up with her steps. The woman was shorter, and Salma, please stop walking so fast, she constantly complained. She never listened, of course, it served as cardio probably. If anything, Catherina should thank her for the workout. The sound of her heels echoed around the hallway and when they finally made it to the elevator, Catherina breathed in relief, exaggerating by placing a hand on her chest as though she was trying to recover from a run while Salma pressed the button to go down.
"Can you swear to me on your favourite Schiaparelli coat that you're truly going on a date date and this isn't a lie to sneak out to one of your parties?" The doors opened before them, an empty space awaiting. They stepped inside the elevator and she rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest at the same time. "You have to walk five shows tomorrow, and I'm not up to dealing with another one of your infamous coke walks. Salma, I'm dead serious." The doors closed.
She could feel Catherina's piercing eyes on her side. The infamous coke walks had only happened once, or once to Catherina's knowledge. Her agent didn't need to be aware of the Hermes show where Irina had to save her arse because she'd been so far gone she was seeing double at some point. Barely able to sit on the makeup chair by herself. Salma met her gaze, and Catherina narrowed her eyes, trying to read a sign of bullshit from her expression. She did that a lot.
"It is a date," She confirmed for what felt like the hundredth time. Catherina tilted her chin up, seeking more assurance from her side with that hint of demand that never went missing in her mannerisms. "He's literally waiting for me in the lobby, I told you."
Catherina's shoulders relaxed, not too much but enough to notice the less rigid posture. "I'll trust you," A forced smile stretched her lips. The woman proceeded to smile funnily. "You rarely go on dates. Is there something special about this one?"
chapter 3 | get (un)lucky
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